


softly, so as not to awaken

by ProseAndPeonies



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Everything is good, Fluff, M/M, Napping, Steve Loves His Friends, Tony Stark is the Epitome of Bad Health, migraines, they all live in Avengers Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProseAndPeonies/pseuds/ProseAndPeonies
Summary: Natasha doesn’t really nap, except when she does. And she especially doesn’t nap with an audience, but Steve and Tony don’t really count.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 108
Collections: for_sickdays





	softly, so as not to awaken

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read! All mistakes are my own. Also, I don’t suffer from migraines, and they really aren’t even the main character of this fic, so take it with a grain of salt.

In the whole of her life, before SHIELD and the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff had taken maybe five or six intentional naps. They’re just not something she enjoyed. Usually, they leave her feeling groggy and more tired than she had been before it, so she tries to avoid them at all costs. And, it is important to note, that she’s never really felt comfortable just shutting down in the middle of the day. She schedules her vulnerability time from 11 P.M. to 5 A.M., and even then she keeps her gun loaded on her bedside table. 

Then she moves into Stark (Avenger’s?) Tower, and she’s surrounded with people who, most likely, won’t try to have her killed. No one there will exploit her moments of weakness, no one will use the time she dozes to poison her tea. They aren’t going to hurt her, and apparently some deep recess of her mind recognizes this, because she starts to nap.

Clint gives her the strangest look when he finds her curled up in a high-backed chair in the common area, but she just shrugs. 

Then she starts to realize that napping during the day is great. It’s a perfect little break, especially if she’s been busy. And Natasha has learned that if she times her naps and sets alarms for about thirty minutes, she won’t wake up groggy and irritated. 

She dozes off all over the Tower; in her room, the dining room, Bruce’s lab, and Clint’s kitchen. 

But she finds that Tony’s floor is easily the most comfortable. 

It’s much different than the Malibu house. Filled with warm light and soft colors, dark leather and perfect accents of gold and the slightest touch of blue. Pepper most certainly had a hand in the design, because Nat’s fairly certain Tony would be okay with some framed band posters and a futon. 

But instead of a futon, Tony has the epitome of napping-related furniture. The Pietà of couches, the Ninth Symphony of seating: his custom leather sectional. 

Natasha knows how much it costs, only because she’d asked. Then laughed herself silly because Steve had overheard the number (one with so many zeroes it was shocking) and choked on his banana bread. 

The leather is soft and supple and well-maintained, but is utterly ignored by the owner. 

Tony uses just about any other room and floor in the tower more than his own (especially Steve’s). He flits about from workshop to Steve’s floor to Bruce’s lab to the common floor, rarely utilizing the magnificent behemoth of a couch on his floor. SO it’s left utterly free for her use. 

That’s the reason that Natasha uses his floor and couch to nap. 

Also she uses it because Tony almost shits himself every time he finds her in his living room, which is such a bonus. Natasha has a recording of his top ten biggest freak outs, compiled by both her and JARVIS. Number one is where he had been returning home from a date with Steve then jumped three feet in the air because she sat up like a Halloween store prop.

But mostly, she uses it because it’s usually a nice, quiet place, one that’s comfortable and relaxing. 

So after a really fucking irritating day of dealing with the worst people on Earth (SHIELD desk jockeys), she grabs her thickest, comfiest blanket and rides from her floor to Tony’s, fully intending on face-planting into his couch and conking out. 

But when Natasha arrives, she steps out of the elevator and sees a familiar mop of golden hair over the back of the couch. 

The T.V. is off, the room is utterly dark and silent, and someone has had JARVIS darken the windows so that there’s very little light coming in. Natasha doesn’t really want to startle Steve too badly, so she scuffs her feet a couple of times as she comes around the edge of the couch.

“Cap, are you—“

Lightning quick, Steve has a finger pressed against his lips, his eyes indicating towards his lap where Tony is. . . Napping?

Stark is curled up on his side with his face pressed against Steve’s belly, and though Natasha can’t really see his face, she can tell he’s in pain. His form’s tense, even in rest, and Steve is staring down at him in concern. 

Tony moves, just slightly, and Natasha hopes she hasn't woken him. But Steve just murmurs something low and soft, smoothing one of his giant hands over Tony’s hip. If Tony is awake, or somewhere in between, this seems to settle him.

Steve’s eyes are still trained down on his boyfriend, brows drawn tight. 

The thing between Steve and Tony wasn’t news to anyone on the team, but watching it play out in real time makes something pang inside Natasha. 

After a moment, she taps her foot once, just to regain his attention, and Steve shoots her a disapproving glare.

“ _He okay?_ ” She mouths. 

Steve nods and taps his free hand to his brow, mouthing, “ _Migraine. Not terrible._ ”

Natasha dips her head in acknowledgement and moves to the other leg of the sectional, which isn’t her usual spot, but she’s willing to give it up under these circumstances. 

Steve spares her a questioning glance, but she just burrows into her blanket and closes her eyes. 

Tony’s couch is still comfortable when even it’s occupied. 

~

She’s slept too long, Natasha realizes, because when she wakes up the sun has set over the New York City horizon. 

Steve and Tony are speaking in such low murmurs that she can only just hear them. Something about the half-awake, half-asleep consciousness she’s in makes her nostalgic. She thinks of being a child and of people watching over her as she slept. 

“Feeling better?”

“Opening my eyes doesn’t make me want to vomit, so, yeah.”

There’s a soft laugh, Steve’s, then something she can’t hear. 

“...glad she’s comfortable,” Tony is saying.

Steve hums his agreement, “Yeah, I like it when my people can relax around each other.”

Natasha doesn’t smile at that. 

_My people._

She’s sure of it.


End file.
